


Somnium

by CCNSurvivor



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Comfort, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCNSurvivor/pseuds/CCNSurvivor
Summary: Zelda hasn't been sleeping well since her marriage to Faustus, since becoming High Priestess and banishing the threat of the Pagans. This is the first time she does.
Relationships: Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) & Zelda Spellman, Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman, Marie LaFleur/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 85
Collections: Mambo Marie March





	Somnium

When Marie awoke in the house that wasn’t her own, it was to sunlight streaming in through the large windows. It splashed onto her face, warming her through, and coaxed her to arch her body in search for more. In the distance, faint sounds ebbed and flowed. The layers of bricks and wood conveyed very little but a hum of voices and the occasional clank of something. Dishes? Her brows drew briefly together into a frown. She couldn’t say with certainty and, really, what was the point when she could push her face into the pillow like this, basking in the sunlight while inhaling the pleasant scent of waterlilies.   
  
Comfortable darkness settled over her again like a blanket, making her limbs heavy and her thoughts drowsy and slow. She did not resist slumber from claiming her again until something tickled her nose, her forehead. Marie frowned and produced a small sound of impatience, tilting her face away, wiping at it with clumsy fingers. A strand of hair. Her eyes opened and slowly a smile blossomed also. Red hair.   
  
She shifted closer underneath the sheets, closer and closer to the other woman until their naked bodies could mould into each other. A steady patter of conversation drifted up from downstairs now and Marie waited, counting the seconds. A curl of the toes, a sigh that sounded like a frown, sudden tension in the back that rested against her chest.   
  
“Good morning, Zelda,” she whispered, burying her face in the unruly red curls.   
  
“Marie.” Today, her name was not a playful roll of syllables, it was not a series of vowels warmed by affection or broken amidst gasps of ecstasy. Today, her name sounded stiff on her lips. “You are awake? What time is it?”   
  
“I don’t know, chérie. Is it of consequence?”   
  
But of course she knew the answer and wrapped an arm around Zelda’s middle to hold her tethered even as she scrambled to reach for the clock on her nightstand.   
  
“The family-“ Already her protest had weakened, her body grown amenable and slack, cocooned as it was in the shelter of Marie’s.   
  
“Is up and moving, Zelda, please.” She brushed a few strands of hair aside to distribute small kisses along the shell of her ear. “Calme-toi.” Her lips dipped lower, just underneath her earlobe in a way that made all sounds of protest diffuse into a sigh of contentment. “This is the first time you have slept through the night. It is a reason to celebrate, non?”   
  
She pressed her mouth against the exposed part of her neck, felt goose flesh rise underneath her tongue. Her hand drew circles over her tummy, trailed lazily along her side, down over her hips. One long fingernail traced the perfect contour of her butt until she shivered.  
  
“Marie.” A soft warning in the guise of a moan. She loosened her hold and let her turn to face her in her arms. “The family is just downstairs.”   
  
It was rather becoming to watch, this struggle for dignity and decorum, when already her eyes had darkened with desire.   
  
“Whatever celebrations you may have in mind will have to wait.”   
  
Marie’s lips twitched into a grin, but still she did not answer. She took too much pleasure in watching her like this, skin to skin, unravelled but not quite undone. The splashes of colour, of growing exasperation on her cheeks.   
  
Without ever breaking eye contact, she dipped her head towards her breast, breath washing up against her nipple. Denying the final contact.   
  
“I was not proposing anything, chérie.”   
  
Lips following the curve of her breast in the barest of touches. Watching that mouth quiver open. A clever flick of the tongue to ignite the most sensitive spot. A growl, a slight tussle that sent the tables turning. Zelda, on top of her now, straddling her hips, still fighting for composure.   
  
“You are a marvellous temptress, Marie, but even so, you will have to wait.”   
  
She chuckled and looked up at her, regal in posture as she was and comfortable in her own skin, her hair wild and on fire like the tail of a shooting star. More than just beautiful.   
  
She reached for her and cupped her cheek, let fondness seep into her words. “Of course, Zelda. I will follow your lead.”   
  
And she brought her close until their lips met in the first touch of the morning, gentle and loving. Then Zelda moved away and went searching for her discarded nightgown and robe, ran a brush through her hair and finally opened the bedroom door an inch. The smell of coffee and fried meat immediately slipped inside, filling the air in a way that made Marie’s stomach rumble.   
  
“Well?” Zelda questioned, shooting her a look over her shoulder.   
  
“Am I invited to breakfast?”   
  
It was impossible to hide her own surprise now or to ignore the sudden flutter of her pulse. Was this to be a morning of many firsts?   
  
“As I see it, my dear, our…entanglement…is one of the best kept secrets. So naturally everyone knows about it. You might as well join us downstairs.”   
  
Marie chuckled and clambered out of the warm sheets to find her own clothes. Elated as well as relieved. “It would be my pleasure, chérie.”


End file.
